Pain Is Only Relevant If It Still Hurts
by alovethatconsumesyou
Summary: Sterek AU: Derek Hale is a young doctor who has taken the medical world by storm, accompanied by his doctors-in-training: Erica Reyes, Isaac Lahey and Vernon Boyd. When Dr Hale and his pack relocate to Beacon Hills to help with their under-performing ER, he finds himself treating Stiles Stilinski. Stiles becomes enthralled by the enigmatic doctor, but at what cost?
1. Chapter 1

So I was on a plane back home when this idea popped into my head and I decided to just write. I have other stuff to work on, but, as my laptop decided to die recently, I'm not sure when everything will be uploaded. Bear with me.

[Sterek mostly with hints of Scisaac.]

The title comes from the song "UNI" by Ed Sheeran, from the album "+". :)

This is an AU, so it does not follow the Teen Wolf storyline. Scott has not been bitten and Peter is not an alpha. The Hale family are all dead, but Derek immediately became an alpha. Laura is still alive, too. The Argents are hunters and are in town. Scott and Allison are in an on/off relationship.

* * *

When Stiles woke up he was in a lot less pain than what he expected to be in. Sure, he felt slightly confused and tired - which was ridiculous because he'd probably been unconscious for days - but he didn't feel like he'd been hit by a bus. Which is exactly what happened. He looked around him. White walls? Check. Weird smell? Check. Black floor? Check. Lumpy bed? Double ch

_Great. Hospital._

The thing about having ADHD, along with absolutely no common sense or balance, is that you will probably end up having various accidents and incidents that most people don't have. Your brain is buzzing with thoughts that flash bright, but die quickly and then the cycle repeats endlessly. Stiles had been too excited thinking about Lydia's upcoming party that he'd managed to get an invite to that he forgot to check for an oncoming vehicle as he crossed the road. Long story short: Stiles collided with the bus.

So Stiles inspected the uber-clean hospital room with a nagging feeling in the back of his mind - why was he not in pain? Why wasn't he covered head-to-toe in plaster paris? The only thing foreign about his appearance was the drip that was connected to his left-hand. That was to be expected - everyone gets a drip when they're in hospital. Scott even got one when he was in for a broken toe. It's like tradition; a rite of passage.

He'd escaped with barely a scratch, unlike every other time he'd had an accident. It wasn't until Stiles heard a cough that he realised someone was in the room with him. Holding his hand.

Damn, how'd he not noticed that earlier? Maybe he was on a lot of morphine.

However, it wasn't just any someone; Derek Hale was in the same room as him. Derek Hale or, to give him his full title, Doctor Derek Hale. His dad had been talking about this guy for weeks. Apparently he was some big-shot doctor that had been working miracles in the ER and that their death toll had basically disappeared.

That was reassuring.

It didn't really explain why the guy felt the need to hold his hand. Sure, maybe he was into all that "human contact gives comfort" business, but Stiles hadn't exactly been on the land of the living for a couple of days at least. Weird.

Avoiding Dr Hale's gaze, he attempted to remove his hand from between the doctor's fingers. Dr Hale complied immediately and Stiles smiled tentatively. He wanted Dr Hale to know that he wasn't freaked out, he was just... confused. Confused and slightly drowsy.

Not that it didn't feel nice or anything.

Dr Hale didn't smile back; he didn't say anything either. He just raised his eyebrows slightly and got up from his chair. He wasn't wearing a typical doctor's uniform, either, Stiles noted. He looked like he'd just arrived in from a rock concert and he didn't own a razor. He was wearing a black leather jacket, with a light grey henley and dark blue jeans. Plain clothes that didn't look so plain on him. Stiles averted his eyes once he realised he'd been staring at Dr Hale's bottom in his too-tight jeans for, what could be counted as, an unreasonably long time. Maybe he was actually off-duty and Stiles' accident had caused him to be called into work.

That did seem plausible; Stiles had heard some worrying things as he was rushed into the ER. Nurses had told his dad that he was "in the best place possible" and that they were doing everything they could, but that he had to prepare for the worst. Stiles knew it was bad. He felt his body flip into the air as it hit the bus and he felt bones break. Bones that definitely weren't broken now.

Panic set in and Stiles wondered if he'd done more damage than he'd thought. He was in a side-ward and they were usually set aside for either very rich or very sick people. Stiles wasn't rich, so that left the other option: he was very sick.

He'd heard about people who had broken their back or neck and had become paralysed from the waist down. He couldn't feel any pain from his legs and that was weird, considering they had basically crashed underneath him. There had to be something wrong.

Doctor Hale chose that exact moment to speak to Stiles and break his train of thought.

"You're awake," he said softly in that voice. The sort of voice that accompanies the death phrases, as Stiles likes to call them: 'we need to talk', 'your mom isn't getting any better' and the now recent, 'you're now paralysed from the waist down'.

Surprisingly what he said next wasn't either of that.

"Well, Genim, you and everyone else that's been visiting constantly will be pleased to know that you're improving by the hour. You'll be out of here in no time."

Improving?

"What? Is everything all right? You're not in any pain are you?" Dr Hale asked, looking up from the tablet he was inputing information in and seeing the slightly sour expression on Stiles' face.

Stiles was having a hard time processing.

"So I'm not paralysed?" he blurted out.

Dr Hale's eyebrows furrowed slightly, "Should you be?"

"Er, yes?"

Stiles didn't mean it to come out as a question, but Dr Hale's question had him questioning himself. Definitely weird.

"Well, Genim-"

"Stiles," he interrupted, "My name is Stiles. Not Genim."

Dr Hale smirked at that.

"Well, _Stiles_," he said, emphasis on his name, "as I said before, you're progressing well. I'll let your father in to see you."

Dr Hale left abruptly, turning around and closing the door behind him mechanically. Stiles breathed out a sigh of frustration as he waited for his dad to arrive, hopefully with Scott and Lydia in tow. Who was he kidding? There was no way Lydia Martin would visit him in hospital.

Turns out Stiles could make two mistakes in one day.

Right infront of his eyes was the beautiful Lydia Martin, the one and only Lydia Martin. He wasn't actually dreaming or hallucinating on medication. She was actually here.

Stiles' breathing hitched slightly when she entered the room and his dad snorted when he saw the effect she had on him. The Sheriff and Scott practically ran over to Stiles and hugged him. Stiles winced slightly as Scott gave him a large bear hug. Lydia watched on as the scene played out, unsure of what to do.

"Dr Hale said you'll be home in a few days," Scott said excitedly, "Isn't that great?"

Everyone in the room was radiating happiness. From what Stiles picked up on, he must have been on the edge of death.

"Yeah. Glad to be on the mend."

The Sheriff pursed his lips before speaking, "I don't know what he told you, but-"

"He didn't tell me anything," Stiles interrupted, "apart from that I'm getting better."

"Well..." The Sheriff said slowly, "You nearly died, son. Internal bleeding and force of impact. You weren't breathing for over a minute before Dr Hale arrived. If it wasn't for him..."

The Sheriff trailed off, unable to finish his sentence. Stiles knew what he was going to say: If it wasn't for Dr Hale then Stiles would be dead. Stiles couldn't help shivering at the thought.

Dead. Not alive. Not breathing.

He had been so close to not existing any longer.

"Hey! You're fine now and that's all that matters," Scott said, being the concerned friend and optimist.

"Yeah, I know. I'm fine... really. How long was I out for?"

"Well, you were hit by the bus this morning around 8 and then-" The Sheriff began.

"This morning?"

"Yeah and then you were rushed to here. They were trying to stop you from bleeding out when Dr Hale arrived. He just... I don't know. He fixed you up good and proper, you know? Then he said you needed to rest and that he'd stay with you. It's about half seven now, so you've had a rough time of it. We had a little chat while one of his doctors-in-training looked over you while you settled. It was scary, Stiles. I thought you'd left me."

His dad's eyes began swimming with tears as he spoke and Stiles patted his arm.

"I'm okay," he reassured his dad, "I just can't believe it was this morning. I thought I'd been out for days. Hell, I feel like I've been out of it for days."

Scott and Sheriff Stilinski glanced at each other before focusing their attention on Stiles. Stiles watched their interaction closely and realised this is how it was going to be for the next few weeks. Great.

"He's quite the doctor isn't he?" The Sheriff asked innocently.

Stiles narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Dr Hale? Yeah, he's... uh," creepy? weird? definitely not human? "_interesting_."

Interesting wasn't a good enough word; the guy was a freaking enigma.

"He told me the same thing three times using different synonyms. He's definitely an owner of a thesaurus," Stiles babbled, "and he said I'll be out soon! Isn't that great? Still don't get how I have no bruises or broken bones, but whatever!"

Stiles' eyes scanned the room quickly to change the subject.

"Hey, Lydia?"

Lydia's eyes met his nervously and she smiled. Lydia Martin was nervous? There's a first for everything.

"I don't really want to interrupt any longer. Do you want me to go?"

Stiles nearly jumped up in shock, "What? No! Don't leave... uh, unless you want to. Wait, no. That sounded rude, but I didn't mean for it to be. Woah."

The Sheriff shook his head in the background and clapped a hand to Stiles' shoulder.

"What I mean is: why are you here? You and me," he gestured to the space between them, "we aren't, you know, close friends or anything."

Lydia looked slightly surprised for a minute and Stiles wondered if he should have kept quiet.

"I just came to see how you were. Everyone's been here today, but if you want me to go..." she said.

"Oh, no. It's just that we've never actually spoken before. I hoped our first conversation would involve a more able version of Stiles."

More abled version of Stiles? Smooth

Stiles really did need to control his brain to mouth filter.

Surprisingly, Lydia actually laughed. Granted it was polite and controlled, but still. Stiles had succeeded and there were witnesses.

The Sheriff had brought cards that people had left into the station for him. There were loads of them, signed by people that Stiles had no knowledge of. Turns out that being the Sheriff's kid gives you some kind of fame in a small town. Definitely weird.  
...

An hour later and visiting time was over. Sure, the Sheriff could probably bend the rules and stay for longer, but (1) he didn't want to 'abuse' his power and (2) he could see that Stiles was getting more worn out as the minutes ticked by. All three of them kissed him lightly on the head and promised to return tomorrow - even Lydia. Stiles smirked to himself as they left.

Job well done.

His afterglow was ruined by a sharp knocking on the door. He groaned internally at the thought of a nurse poking and prodding him to take blood. He was in more pain than he had been when he woke up, but he didn't really fancy any pain medicine.

With a sigh he called out: "Come in."

However, his visitor wasn't a nurse; it was Dr Hale.

Stiles groaned internally again because it was Dr freaking Hale. He wanted to cringe earlier when his dad had made a pointed comment about the doctor. Sure, he was pretty good looking, but he was weird. Not creepy weird, just weird weird. Enigmatic.

"Your dad looks a lot happier," Dr Hale noted.

"I tend to have that effect on people," Stiles replied, a little drier than he'd intended.

Dr Hale didn't say anything else, he just tapped a few times on the tablet screen, watching Stiles in the process. Stiles felt his mind turn to jello as the doctor stared at him intently. Stiles thought it was the light, but he could swear that Dr Hale's eyes flashed amber as he stared at him. Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but the words couldn't come out right.

"Everything okay, Mr Stilinski?"

Dr Hale was evidently aware that Stiles had something on his mind.

"I thought... oh, doesn't matter. I told you. It's Stiles. Not Genim."

"All right, then. Everything okay, Stiles?"

"Better," Stiles grimaced.

There was a loud activation noise and Stiles heard a faint trickle of water. He looked beside him to the drip that was connected to his left hand. Fantastic.

"It's just some pain medication, Stiles. You'll feel better in the morning."

Stiles had learnt about pain medication and he knew something was definitely up. He shouldn't been feeling better so quickly. However, he couldn't seem to form coherent thoughts as he drifted off into a painless and oddly peaceful sleep. The last thing he could remember was a warm hand on his arm and the feeling of pain being suctioned from his body and leaving him.  
_

Stiles woke up 10 hours later completely alone.

His door was shut and the room was freezing due to the fan that had been left on all night. Stiles stepped out of bed to turn it off when he realised that he probably shouldn't be out of bed. It was definitely weird. His legs had been cooped up for so long that they welcomed usage. He didn't feel weak or shaky or in pain - he just felt tired.

Stiles could hear raised voices and he decided to investigate. It was around 5AM and he thought most people would be asleep. As he passed most of the patients on his way to find the voices, he realised that most people were asleep. Who did the voices belong to?

Soon enough, he found the owners. It was Dr Hale and Allison's dad, Chris Argent. Stiles wasn't really sure because he'd only ever seen Chris Argent sitting in his car waiting for Allison. It was Scott who had the pleasure of seeing him nearly every weekend, not him.

They were arguing over a patient, Stiles assumed due to their constant mentioning of a cure. Chris Argent mumbled something that Stiles couldn't hear and then Derek shook his head. Stiles crept closer to them, curious to what they were talking about. He knew it was wrong, but he was bored.

"I follow The Code. You know that." Chris Argent said.

What the fuck? Code? What do they do, deliver messages to each other every night in Morse Code?

"It doesn't mean I'll turn a blind eye if I find out you bit him," Chris Argent continued, "you may not be rabid, but a new one will be and you know it."

Dr Hale raised his eyebrows.

"You know I didn't. All I'm doing is trying to save lives - not ruin them."

Dr Hale stopped suddenly and looked around.

"Someone's here," he said, "you should leave."

Dr Hale turned on his heel and walked over to Mrs Clary, the sixty year old lady who was standing just outside her door. Huh, Stiles hadn't noticed her there.

"Ann, is there something you need? I'll help you back into your bed and then we'll sort it out."

Derek disappeared into her room and Chris Argent sighed heavily, leaving the hospital quickly. Stiles' head was buzzing with questions: what did Chris Argent want? What were they talking about?

Stiles shook his head as he made his way back to his room, muttering under his breath as he walked. Sleep, he decided, would be a good idea, and he was fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

He was asleep for maybe ten seconds when the fan was turned off from the security switch at the desk.

* * *

All criticism is welcome, providing it is constructive. My brain works in mysterious and wonderful ways, so there's no telling where the story will go. I love plot twists and unexpected outcomes.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles woke up a few hours later in the company of a gorgeous blonde doctor-to-be. Her name was Dr Reyes, but she told Stiles to call her Erica. She told him that Dr Hale had an emergency to sort out and that she would be looking after him today.

_Yeah, a Chris Argent shaped emergency, _Stiles thought to himself.

"I hope you're not put off because I'm not 100 percent doctor," she joked with him.

"Nah, it's good. I'm getting better anyway," he replied.

She grinned appreciatively at him and then began tapping on the tablet screen again. Stiles watched her movements intently. She was very tall - taller than him by about 3 inches - and extremely toned, but with slight curves. Her hair fell in ringlets past her shoulder and had a glossy sheen. Attractive. He also noticed how she walked gracefully; yet quickly, as if everything was happening too slow for her liking.

Erica finished with the tablet and perched herself on the edge of his bed, taking his hand in hers. Stiles felt his heart beat quicken as she touched him, and apparently she could tell as well. She gave him an exasperated look, but kept hold of his hand.

"I'm just taking the pain away, Stiles," Erica said, her tone was firm.

"Yeah, I-I know."

Stiles was beginning to feel sleepier by the second, which was strange. He'd slept for hours and hours, yet every time he woke up and saw a doctor, his body longed to sleep again. He closed his eyes regretfully and let his mind wander for a few minutes. Even with Erica in the room, he didn't feel awkward or obliged to talk to her. Right there and then, all he really wanted to do was sleep. It was like sleep was the only thing he wanted; his main priority.

Huh, definitely weird.

He was still half-conscious when Erica stood up, letting go of his hand. She closed the door quietly behind her and left him all alone. Stiles didn't feel sleepy or drowsy anymore, but he did feel better. A lot better.

His dad was definitely right about these guys, they were geniuses.

...  
The next few days passed quickly without incident and Stiles was recovering well. He didn't see much of Dr Hale or Erica, but he was seen to regularly by another of his doctors-in-training: Dr Isaac Lahey.

Now, Isaac fit the pattern like the other two. He looked like he'd stepped off a runway when he came in to see how Stiles was doing. Stiles' mouth gaped as he took in all 6 feet of Dr Lahey, who gave him a michevious smirk upon entering the room.

"Stiles Stilinski?" he asked.

"The very one," Stiles replied

"I'm Dr Lahey. You can call me Isaac. I'm one of Dr Hale's doctors and I've been assigned your case along with Erica and Boyd."

First name basis, just like Erica. Double weird.

Who is Boyd? Stiles asked himself.

Isaac glanced at Scott, who was sitting beside Stiles' bed.

"You must be Scott McCall."

Scott flushed, "That's me."

Isaac nodded as if he was a teacher and Scott had answered the question correctly. Isaac then offered his hand to Scott, who shook it firmly and gave Isaac a wide grin.

"You know my mum? Melissa?" Scott asked.

"I was speaking to her earlier. She mentioned that you'd be stopping by to see Stiles. I, uhm, didn't mean to interrupt."

Isaac quickly turned from a confident, cocky guy to a stuttering boy after one conversation with Scott.

Definitely weird.

Scott shook his head, "No, no. Actually I have to go... sorry. I've got, uh, something to do. But at least you'll be in good hands, right?" Scott looked from Isaac to Stiles and smiled happily.

"Allison?" Stiles asked, giving Scott a sneaky look.

"Something like that," Scott mumbled.

"Well don't let Argent Senior bust your ass again sneaking into her room. I'm in the hospital now, remember? I can't come save you." Stiles said jokingly, earning a blush from Scott.

Stiles swore he heard Isaac wince when he mentioned the word 'Argent', but shook his head, putting it down to the little mini-crush he suspected Isaac was developing. Hell, Scott was an attractive guy. He could see where he was coming from. Kinda.

Scott pouted, headed for the door and stopped before leaving. He turned around, hand on the side of the door, and spoke quietly to Stiles.

"Don't do anything silly while I'm gone. I mean it."

Stiles interrupted him, protesting about how he was in a hospital and how he was being kept on lockdown by all the hot doctors. It earned him a raised eyebrow from Isaac, but still. It was true.

"Well, that is right. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow buddy."

Scott left and Isaac turned back to him. He had slowly gravitated towards the door, following Scott subconsciously. Stiles wondered why Dr Isaac Lahey would possibly do that and then he adamantly stopped his brain wondering why. Sometimes there were things you didn't really want to think about.

Especially about your best friend.

"Who's Allison?" Isaac asked casually. He was apparently on the same train of thought as Stiles.

Fantastic.

Stiles pouted slightly, but relented at Isaac's expression. He was trying to act like a normal doctor: asking questions with uninterested voices. However, his mouth twitched unnaturally as he spoke, causing Stiles to zero-in on his obvious interest.

"Scott's on/off girlfriend. I'm not actually sure anymore. I think they're more 'off' than 'on' nowadays, if you get what I mean." Stiles replied.

"Ah, I see."

Stiles didn't say anything else and let the subject drop awkwardly. He was hoping that Isaac would let it drop, too. Isaac, thankfully, received the hint and started up a completely different conversation. They were talking animately for several minutes about television and complaining patients that grace the ER, when Dr Hale entered the room, effectively silencing their conversation.

"I guess that's my queue to leave and let the expert do his job," Isaac said, a faint trace of mockery in his voice as he nudged Dr Hale on the shoulder, "I'll leave you to it."

Stiles realised he was actually really lucky as both Erica and Isaac were genuinely nice doctors - albeit they were doctors-in-training. Dr Hale, on the other hand, was a lot more work. Stiles smirked internally at the interrogation he was going to give the doctor.

Isaac left and it was just the two of them. Stiles hadn't seen him in days; he would've thought the doctor was off work, but he'd heard snippets of what he'd been doing from Erica. Stiles was curious and that didn't really work out.  
Ever.

Dr Hale lifted his head in a half-hearted acknowledgement nod and Stiles widened his eyes slightly in response. Stiles let him have a couple of seconds to sweat before he began the interrogation. He wanted to know what Chris Argent wanted, but he didn't know how to ask without sounding suspicious.

He opened his mouth to ask an innocent 'what have you been up to?' question, but Dr Hale lifted the tablet that he, Isaac and Erica had used earlier and began tapping information into it. Stiles couldn't see what they were doing and it began to irritate him.

"What exactly do you do on that thing?"

Stiles didn't realise he was talking until the words were out of his mouth. Dr Hale raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Just monitor you each hour. It connects to the lab computer and then we can check for anything unusual." he said.

"Unusual?"

"Yeah," Dr Hale gave him an incredulous look, "You're in a hospital. What do you think we do? Check under your bed for monsters?"

Well, he didn't have to get pissy about it.

"I just meant... no. What do you mean, unusual? Why not 'anything wrong' or 'signs of possible paralysed victim lying in this bed'?"

"You're not still going on about that, are you?" Dr Hale asked him.

"Yeah, actually, I am. How do I not even have a scratch?"

Dr Hale shrugged, "You got lucky. It happens sometimes."

"No, I don't believe that. Luck is for pretty boys that drive Porshes and buy overpriced T-Shirts. Me? I'm not lucky." Stiles said.

"Well, you were this time. You were lucky that I got here in time, otherwise you'd be doing a lot less than ungratefully talking about your miraculous recovery," Dr Hale said, his voice rising slightly.

Great, now he's super pissy.

Stiles held his hands up in mock-surrender, "All right, doctor. I was just speculating, okay. I'm incredibly bored and I have nothing to do during the day apart from talk to people who look at me like I need help. What sort of idiot walks infront of a bus? If my dad wasn't the Sheriff and I hadn't nearly died, I think most of Beacon Hills would have came to the hospital to laugh at me."

And now Stiles was talking about himself, which was not good because he was getting angrier and more annoyed by the second. Dr Hale, on the other hand, was watching his mini-meltdown with an amused expression.

"Calm down, Mr Stilinski. I'm sure that most of the kids your age will have moved on to the latest hot topic by now. There's no need to get stressed about it." Dr Hale sounded bored when he spoke, not looking at Stiles.

"Do you mean to be such a patronising asshole, or is it just one of your personality quirks?" Stiles blurted out confidently and then froze, seeing the doctor's expression, "Oh shit. I really didn't mean-"

Stiles closed his eyes, expecting Dr Hale to lose his cool and whack him on the head, just like anyone else would have. However, this wasn't anyone else and Dr Hale had some serious self-control. Stiles heard - what could only be described as severe laughter - and opened one eye cautiously. Infront of him, Dr Hale was actually laughing.

Weird.

"It's been a long time since someone actually spoke their mind around here. Around me, actually. It's definitely refreshing." Dr Hale said honestly.

What the - ?

It was Stiles' turn to raise his eyebrows as he looked around the room before he spoke. He was definitely surprised at the reaction of the doctor.

"Oh, sorry, I was just checking that you were talking to me. You don't actually seem like the compliment type, so, you know, I was unsure of who you were talking to."

"Careful, Mr Stilinski. One would think you're trying to flirt with me," Dr Hale said lightly as he left the room, shutting off the light and closing the door.

"Ugh. Dick." Stiles muttered when the door closed. Later, he would swear that he heard a faint laugh from outside the door.

Stiles turned over to lie on his left side and pulled the sheets up over himself. The room was weirdly cold - despite the fan having left him days previously - and he was desperate for heat. He lay there in silence and darkness for hours; thinking and thinking and thinking. That was all there was to do in the hospital. His dad wouldn't bring his phone, claiming that it would 'interfere' with the hospital machines. He told his dad that it was 2013 and that stuff didn't happen anymore. Nevertheless, his dad didn't relent and Stiles was stuck in the hospital with nothing to occupy him.

He was never a morning person, preferring to stay up all night on his laptop and sleep-in until late afternoon. Only on weekends, though. School mornings require a very unholy six thirty AM start. Stiles always found something oddly peaceful about working when most of the humans in the world are asleep. His definition of an early night would be half-one in the morning. He would never even refer to half-one as morning; as far as he was concerned, it was still night-time until he went to sleep.

So Stiles had nothing to occupy him, but his body wouldn't fall asleep. He had done the damage and ingrained a very unhealthy sleeping pattern into his unfortunate self, and now he was doing to have to face the repercussions. Being bored was going to drive him senile.

Thinking was going to drive him senile, too.

He tossed and turned, furrowing himself further into the crappy hospital blankets, as he let his mind replay what happened with Dr Hale. Had he sassed too much? Did Dr Hale think he was a nutjob? It had to be a negatory to both of those questions. Dr Hale hadn't mentioned Dr Morrell, the creepy but hot therapist you were visited by if one of the doctors thought you were losing your mind. Mrs McCall had told him enough stories about people that qualified a visit from her. Stiles knew he wasn't one of them.

What about the laugh, though? Stiles had earned a laugh out of the surly doctor and that should count for something. And that flirting comment?

_He's totally trying to flirt, _Stiles told himself. Another voice in his head answered it harshly, _yeah and why would anyone flirt with you? You're seventeen years old. No hot older man would want your tight little virgin ass._

_Great. _Now he was having a gay crisis.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

So here's the next instalment. Sorry for the delay! I know you probably (a) don't care and (b) don't care, but I have the same problem as Stiles. I find it ridiculously hard to fall asleep at night, but once asleep I can sleep for a crazy long time. I have no idea why. Ugh.

Anyway, on a happier note: is everyone excited for tomorrow? #Moonday and the season finale! I haven't watched the leaked version, but I've heard snippets. Sigh. I hope no one dies!


End file.
